


The Starlings

by incorrectbatfam



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Original Fiction, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrectbatfam/pseuds/incorrectbatfam
Summary: A pair of cosmically superpowered twins come to a disagreement when it comes to dealing with a drug-smuggling villainess.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Original Character & Original Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	The Starlings

**Author's Note:**

> The two main protagonists are characters that I've written oneshots for in my original character studies, [Finn Lafayette](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141886/chapters/66282796) and [Gabriella Lafayette](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141886/chapters/66495232). The characters are just a different age from the character study.
> 
> I haven't written character studies for the rest, but it's in my plans.

The commlinks crackled to life.

“Alpha Squad, this is home base. Status report.”

“Iris is a go. I’ve detected three unmarked vans headed this way. ETA: three minutes.”

“Hyacinthus is a go. Currently patrolling the perimeter. No signs of activity yet.”

Finn watched as his sister put a finger to her earpiece. 

“Starling is a go,” she said. “On standby in the Northeast Wing.”

“Starling _s_ ,” Finn corrected. “With an ‘S’.”

The girl rolled her eyes, switching off the mic before he finished talking.

“Hey, not cool, Gabriella,” he said. “At least let me talk.”

“ _Shh_.”

In Finn’s opinion, the worst part of any mission was the waiting. He’d been stuck between the rafters and the cobweb-decorated ceiling for God-knows-how-many hours by now, and it was giving him a crick in the neck. Thick dust streaked his dark uniform like the Milky Way at night.

“How much longer?”

“Until we hear the signal,” Gabriella said.

He suppressed a groan. “Signal, shmignal. Can’t we just jump in and, I dunno, get this over with?”

“That goes against all protocol and…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “We need to catch _all_ the suppliers and intercept their delivery and… you get the idea. Just do exactly as I say, when I say it.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Aye aye, captain.”

“You guys argue a lot, you know that?” asked Hyacinthus.

“That’s how you know they’re siblings,” said Iris. “Not that I can relate.”

“I’ve got three.”

“We know. Now all of you, shush.”

Finn could feel time tick by, each second passing with an agonizing slowness. Finn imagined this was what being consumed by quicksand was like: dense, inescapable, suffocating. Don’t villains know it’s rude to keep a guy waiting?

From the other end, Hyacinthus spoke. “The arrow had entered the quiver.”

“Copy that,” said Gabriella.

Footsteps echoed throughout the gray concrete tunnels. Gruff voices whispered amongst themselves, and Finn could make out the click of a gun loading. As long shadows slinked into view, a young woman’s voice cut in.

“Gentlemen: updates.”

“Yes ma’am,” said one man. “Next shipment o’ love pills is comin’ in ‘round 16:30. Should be ready to deal out by tonight.”

“Excellent. Prepare for distribution.”

The sweeping alabaster tunic, the blazing copper hair, the quiver slung over her shoulder—there was no mistaking it. Finn’s blood ran hot at the sight of her.

He turned to Gabriella and signed, _“Now?”_

 _“Not yet,”_ she signed back. _“Wait for Iris’s signal.”_

Finn bit back the frustration on the tip of his tongue. Lady Cupid was _right there_ and guarded only by the two henches beside her, why not go for it now? But the last thing he wanted was to piss off the team again by “not following procedure”, so he waited.

One of the henchmen hit a large button on the wall. The garage rolled up and several armored vehicles rolled in, their monster truck–like tires grinding against the uneven, cracked floor. Dozens of kevlar-padded men with firearms and nightsticks hopped out and began unloading crate after labeled wooden crate.

Finn gritted his teeth and put a finger to his comm, listening for an indication. But he was met with static.

One by one, the crates moved from the big trucks to smaller ones manned by locals. Lady Cupid hung by one of the stacks, twirling her bow in her hand, staring down at her henches, daring them to slip up.

 _“Now?”_ Finn signed.

Gabriella shook her head. _“We need to make sure all the suppliers are here.”_

More cars trickled in. The longer he waited, the more Finn wanted to tear his hair out. Who cared about the smaller dealers when they had the head honcho?

He was so absorbed in his frustration that he almost missed the signal. It was only when Gabriella leaped from the rafters, midnight-blue cape billowing behind her, did it click. His feet hit the ground, heavy as a feather with the practice of a hundred battles. 

Finn delivered the first uppercut to a guy with a tonfa, fist glowing hot. 

“Destroy the supplies.” Gabriella fired an energy bolt at another henchman. “We can’t let it hit the streets.”

“But—”

“Do as I say.”

Reluctantly, he turned toward the boxes. He felt a white dwarf star condense in the center of his palm and launched it at the first stack. Splinters and charred pills rained down.

“Pretty awesome, if I say so myself,” Finn said.

An arrow snagged his cape. The back of his head hit the wall. Two more pinned his sleeves to the plaster.

“Well, well.” Lady Cupid drew another arrow from her quiver. “Looks like the astronauts are back for another round. Got tired of collecting moon rocks?”

“For the last time, lady, I’ve never been to space.”

A solar flare raced up his arms, incinerating the arrows. Finn brushed the ashes off his sleeve.

At the edge of his vision, two figures burst through the window—a shower of crystals letting in the orange sunlight. One lowered themself with an extendable staff; the other swung in on a grappling hook, crimson darts spraying from his rifle.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not alone anymore,” Finn said. 

He fired another starbolt at her, grazing the tips of her hair, and prepared another one to launch.

From across the room, Gabriella shouted, “The supplies!”

“Kinda busy right now.” Finn ducked as Lady Cupid swung the bow over his head and shot another two energy bolts at her, both missing and hitting a pillar. 

“I thought we agreed to do as I say.” Gabriella threw a henchman into three others.

Another arrow tore through Finn’s cape. Heat pulsed from the silver flames encasing his arms. He grabbed the bow. The fire danced along the ornate curve but didn’t burn through. Finn’s eyes widened.

Something sliced across his cheek. Finn recoiled. He touched the stinging spot. His fingertips came back red and sticky; his eyes traced it to a bloodstained arrowhead.

But how? He was nearly invincible. The only thing that could hurt him was—

Finn narrowly dodged the next arrows and aimed a bolt at Lady Cupid’s back. Once again, heat strong enough to melt metal failed to leave marks on her quiver, her clothes, and even her skin.

“The supplies,” Gabriella reminded him.

“But—”

“It’s part of the plan and I want you to do it.”

Lady Cupid smirked. “Hope your company serves you well.”

Scowling, Finn let Cruella De Vil slip out of the duel. Floating above, he counted three tall pyramids and two small stacks among the fray. Iris was spinning their staff like a propellor tearing through the sea of minions. From atop a truck, a crowd opened fire at Hyacinthus; Hyacinthus returned the favor with a pair of pistols. 

Finn hit the ground like a meteorite. With a steady beam, he repelled the henchmen like a leaf blower clearing the ground. Except leaf blowers didn’t leave lasting burn marks.

“Hy, got anything flammable?”

“Dude, what makes you think I have anything flammable?” Hyacinthus’s dart struck an incoming henchman, who clutched the spot and fell face-down. 

“You’re the poison expert.”

Hyacinthus reloaded his dart gun. “First, it’s called a toxicologist. Second, I’m an undergrad. Third, not all poisons are flammable.”

Finn threw his hands up. “Guess I’m on my own.”

Even with flight and his powers cranked to the max, he could only take on one bunch at a time, blasting through layers like he was peeling an onion. Either he was having an off day or the boxes were made of something other than normal wood, because under no circumstances should it be _this_ hard to blow up.

As he dodged a sequence of bullets, Finn flew over to Gabriella. “These shipments are reinforced with something else. I say we scrap the current idea and focus on the people.”

“I’ve got more experience with this case,” Gabriella said. “ _Go_.”

In the corner of his eye, Finn spotted Lady Cupid and a driver hopping into a getaway car.

“I’ll go after her,” he said.

Gabriella tugged him back by the cape. “No, we’ve got too many potential arrests here. You are not jeopardizing our chances on a single person.”

“But it’s an _important_ person!” Finn exclaimed. We take her out, we take the entire network down!”

“The answer is no,” Gabriella said. “Follow the plan. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Finn could only watch as the car pulled away, shrinking into the violet horizon. He turned back to the scene and cracked his knuckles.

Everything after that was routine busywork—the work Finn always got stuck with: gathering evidence, tying up perps, taking selfies with the tied-up perps, posting said selfies online. (Okay, the last two were just him.) All the while, Gabriella and the other team members talked to the authorities and press—all the fun stuff Finn never got to do.

As the police sealed off the scene and hauled the criminals away, Hyacinthus said, “Iris and I know a bar along the Seine. Wanna come?”

Finn opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Gabriella said, “Can’t, we have to generate a mission report.”

He pouted. “I wanted drinks.”

“There’s a time and place for letting loose and this is not it,” she said.

Finn mumbled, “Aye aye, captain.”

~☆~☆~

“For the last time, dolphins are mammals.”

“I thought mammals lived in deserts.”

“Those are camels.”

“There’s an animal named after a cigarette brand?”

Gabriella rubbed her temple. “How did we even come to this topic? We need to focus. Finn, quit using your cape as a tablecloth.”

Finn grumbled something about convenience as he removed the empty Chinese takeout boxes from on top of his cape, which was draped over the coffee table. He stifled a yawn and tossed the chopsticks into the trash like Hyacinthus’s darts. 

Turning toward Gabriella, he surveyed the empty coffee mugs creating a semicircle around her harsh, glowing computer. Papers and sticky notes plastered her desk like more of a tablecloth than Finn’s cape. Her shaky fingers tap-tap-tapped away at the sticky keyboard.

“How’s it coming?”

Gabriella ran her fingers through her hair. “Files are still downloading. What have you got on your end? Besides bad jokes.”

“Hey, I’m the Da Vinci of jokes,” he said. “I’ve examined the surveillance tapes. So far the only sign of Lady Cupid was last mission. Then she… I dunno, she _disappeared_. I don’t even have a possible civilian to pinpoint her identity.”

“You’re not looking hard enough,” Gabriella said. “Check again—there shouldn’t be many others besides her. I’m not asking you to do a face scan of downtown.”

He stifled another yawn. “Can we sleep? Patrol’s early tomorrow.” 

“You go ahead. The files just downloaded; I can narrow down some suspects based on metro card swipes.”

There were a lot of things wrong with that strategy. The villain might not have used public transportation, or their card was under a false name, or they stole someone else’s. Sleep tugged at Finn’s eyelids. He pushed the possibilities into the time out corner of his mind and the box of documents under his bed.

He crossed his arms. “What part of ‘we’ do you not get?”

Gabriella turned her swivel-chair around. “Somebody needs to figure out where Lady Cupid’s gonna strike next. In case you haven’t noticed, her attacks are becoming more frequent and aggressive. If we can figure out her pattern, we can catch her in the act next time.”

“I know,” Finn said, “but we’re not gonna do any good if we’re sleep-deprived. Maybe you should put that away and relax.”

“Maybe you’re just lazy,” Gabriella muttered.

_She’s always like this when she’s tired._

“What did you say about me?”

_She’s always like this when she hasn’t eaten._

“Nothing,” she waved. “Go to sleep.”

“No,” Finn said. “Say it again.”

_She’s always like this when she’s under a ton of pressure._

Gabriella prodded him in the chest. “You fail to generate proper mission reports. You don’t log your patrol hours until the last minute, and when you do it’s riddled with errors. You don’t communicate with the team and you leave out important details about the case. I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen you follow basic procedure, and don’t even get me started on how sloppy your combat skills are.”

“Gabi, calm down—”

But she continued. “You care more about taking selfies and collecting numbers than you care about your duties.” Her face grew redder with each word. “Your incompetence nearly cost us everything we’ve been working toward. If you ask me, I don’t think anyone can outmatch your complete and utter incompetence. I expected more from a hero.”

_She’s always like this._

“And _I_ expected to be treated better than this from my sister,” Finn snapped. “Do you have any idea how much of my time I’ve sacrificed because _you_ think that having powers automatically means we have to solve everyone’s problems? And not once did you recognize what I contributed.”

“You’ve only contributed Instagram posts and clout,” she scoffed. “And it’s not like you have better things to do.”

“I do, actually!” he said. “I could be getting a job, seeing the world, making friends. I’m the only nineteen-year-old I know who’s not in university because I’ve been busy helping you fulfill _your_ mission. Did you ever once consider what _my_ goals are?”

“Typical you, only thinking of yourself. Don’t you want to be a force of good?” Gabriella asked.

“Not if it consumes every moment of my life!” Finn could feel the currents rush to his fingertips and heat rush to his ears. “All I ask for is _normalcy_. I’m not selfish for wanting to be happy.”

“If you want to leave so bad, why not just quit the team?”

“Because you’re here! I can’t let you fight the bad guys by yourself.”

“I don’t see why not,” Gabriella said. “I’m perfectly capable.”

“You’re missing the point!” He clenched his fist. “We’re all we’ve got. Mom and Dad would want us to stick together and support each other.”

“Don’t you dare bring Mom and Dad into this!”

“Why? Because they’re on my side for once?”

A starbolt struck the wall inches from Finn’s head. Chest heaving, Gabriella lowered her hand. 

Her eyes widened as she looked from her hand to her brother. “Finn…”

He threw the cape over his shoulders, the rest of the uniform materializing along with it. Whatever growling, bloodshot-eyed, teeth-baring creature this was, he didn’t want to get any closer. He opened the balcony door.

“I’m sorr—”

He didn’t stick around to hear the rest of it.

~☆~☆~

Finn used to wonder why every old-timey black-and-white movie was set in Paris. But as he walked along the Pont des Arts, cape flapping in sync with the distant rolling thunder, it occurred to him that the city knew how to cater to every occasion. He sensed the incoming downpour. Bikers rode faster and people ducked into the nearest building. 

Lightning flashed. 

Finn scoffed. “Do your worst.”

He shivered as a breeze blew. Finn couldn’t wait for December to be over.

“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but something tells me you and your sister had a fallout.”

Finn looked up to see Hyacinthus perched on a street lamp like a Notre Dame gargoyle. 

“How long have you been stalking me?”

Hyacinthus rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. I, a filthy rich traveling mercenary with inside access to every casino in the Northern hemisphere, have nothing better to do than stalk an angsty teenager in a onesie.”

Finn chuckled. “That still begs the question, what brings you here?”

“I could ask you the same.”

Finn adjusted the cape and flew up to Hyacinthus’s level. “Gabr—er, my sister and I had a falling out.”

“And is this normal or…?”

“We disagree sometimes, but not like this.” Finn’s jaw clenched. “She called me useless. The _nerve_. I contribute, right? Please tell me I contribute.”

“You’re the clown who takes ridiculous pictures.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Hyacinthus continued, as though he didn’t hear Finn. “You suck at formulating plans, compiling cases, designing weapons—”

“Alright, I get it.”

“—drawing blueprints, negotiating—”

“You can stop now.”

“—and don’t even get me _started_ on your trash talk. You need to take, like, a How To Insult Villains 101 course,” Hyacinthus said. 

Finn crossed his arms. “Please never become a therapist.”

“I’m not joking,” Hyacinthus said. “You’ve got work to do in a lot of places, but _we need you_. We need your clowning and we need your photos. Who’s gonna vlog when Iris spews coffee from their nose from laughing so hard at a relatable cat video? Who’s gonna sign autographs? More importantly, who’s gonna post those golden hour selfies reminding people to stay positive?”

“Anyone can do that,” Finn said.

“Anyone can bake bread, but you don’t see a world overrun with bakers. Seriously, you need to up your confidence game. Don’t take crap from anyone—not even your family.”

Perhaps there was something to what his compatriot was saying.

“Guess I should talk to her,” he said.

“ _Duh_.”

The higher Finn flew, the faster the city shrunk, until the roads were cross-stitches on gray-green velvet. His arm hairs stuck up as static electricity skimmed the surface of his skin, and the clouds were so close he could almost touch them. Finn wasn’t sure what he raced to beat. Second thoughts? The clock? 

As he neared the ground, a figure wandering a factory caught his eye. At first, it seemed like an employee, but upon closer inspection, the person had a magenta glow to them, like… what was the word? 

Finn hid behind a smokestack as soon as he saw the quiver and put a finger to his comm. “Starling to Alpha Squad, we have a situation at the Martin Labs pharmaceutical factory.”

A couple of seconds passed before Iris asked, “What’s happening?”

“I found Lady Cupid,” he said. “She’s…” Finn peeked over to where the villain was talking to people in lab coats. “She’s talking to some scientists.”

A second voice—Gabriella’s—joined the conversation. “I’m on my way.”

“What’s everyone’s ETA?”

“Six minutes,” said Gabriella.

“Seven for me,” said Iris.

“Five,” said Hyacinthus. “This better be quick. I’m supposed to have breakfast with my boyfriend in three hours.”

Without Gabriella’s binoculars, Finn resorted to zooming in on his phone. He pressed record.

_“Have you finished synthesizing the batch?”_

_“N-not yet, m-my lady.”_

_“And why not?”_ The icy bite sent a chill down Finn’s spine.

“Th-the machine experienced some technical difficulties a-and 

_“I have a business to run. Profits will go down if we keep experiencing setbacks. And do you know who suffers when profits go down?”_

Though pixelated, Finn saw Lady Cupid hold something to the scientist’s neck before retracting it. They disappeared through a side door.

The rooftop gravel crunched as Hyacinthus landed beside Finn. The other two arrived shortly after, Iris hanging off Gabriella’s cape. 

Gabriella asked, “What’s the plan?”

Finn blinked. “You’re asking me?”

“I should’ve valued your input earlier,” she said. “Your ideas deserve a chance. I was wrong for not letting you have that. The stage is yours.”

He smiled softly. “Thanks.” He turned to the rest of the team. “Based on what I’ve seen recently, we’re not dealing with a run-of-the-mill crime lord. Iris, got that magic mirror? I need proof that Lady Cupid is somehow superhuman.”

Iris pulled a teacup-sized compact from their utility belt and said, “Mirror mirror, show me Lady Cupid’s history.”

The fog beneath the glass swirled around but didn’t lift.

“Figured as much,” they said. “It won’t work if we don’t know her true identity.”

“So we’re going in blind?” Gabriella asked.

“Yes and no,” Finn said. “We have brains, we have tools, and we have each other. Huddle up, team. Here’s the plan.”

~☆~☆~

“Alpha Squad: status report.”

“Iris is a go. I’m tracking the movement of four of Lady Cupid’s scientists based on their ID. They’re currently in the first-floor office.”

“Hyacinthus is a go. I’ve gained access to the pharmaceutical machine room.”

Gabriella watched as Finn put a finger to his earpiece. 

“Starling _s_ are a go,” he said, smiling. “We’ve blocked access to the machine room. That should buy enough time to disable the conveyor belt and neutralize the pills.”

“Good,” Hyacinthus said, “but since the pills contain an alkaloid compound, the neutralization reaction has an extremely volatile intermediate step involving a buildup of nitrogenous gas, and with the volume we have—”

“Dude.”

“It’s a frickin’ time bomb.”

A doorknob jiggled, echoing throughout the hall. 

“You ready?” Gabriella asked.

“Not at all,” Finn said. “Let’s do this thing.”

This time, there was no waiting. As soon as Lady Cupid’s foot hit the linoleum, all hell broke loose.

Finn fired the first bolt—a comet streaking down the dim corridor. It struck a scientist in the chest, sending him crashing through the wall. 

Lady Cupid drew her bow. “Looks like we have ourselves some early risers.”

“Jokes on you,” Finn said. “I never went to sleep.”

From the other side of the comm, Hyacinthus groaned. “Trash talk still needs work. Also: we have five minutes.”

Her arrows met Finn and Gabriella’s energy beams, dissolving in the heat like sugar in water. 

Lady Cupid backflipped away from a blast. “I see you’ve fallen back on your sister once again. What, Starling boy? You cannot do anything for yourself?”

**Four minutes thirty-eight seconds.**

A neutron star encased his hand.

“You’re about to see that for yourself.”

His fist clashed with her bow. He pushed against her parry, channeling every ounce of force in his body, heels planted on the tile cracks. While the arrows burned like matchsticks, the bow hardly caved as the metal came into contact with the miniature star. Flames danced along the curve and in Lady Cupid’s eyes. A pink ring encircled her irises—a glint disappearing as fast as it appeared.

“What _are_ you?” Finn asked. “An alien? A wizard?”

“Ha! Those lowlifes are nothing compared to me,” she said. “Are you that dense? It’s even in my name.”

**Four minutes eleven seconds.**

She pushed. Finn pushed back.

The searing heat came in waves. Finn asked, “You’re a god?”

“Close,” said Lady Cupid. “I am an age-old disciple, imbued with his power, sent to bring love to a world devoid of it.”

“Full offense, this isn’t what folks mean by ‘the power of love’.” 

His knee met her stomach. Gabriella snatched Lady Cupid’s bow. As soon as the weapon left Lady Cupid’s grasp, it melted into a puddle of bronze goo in Gabriella’s glowing hand.

**Three minutes fifty-three seconds.**

“Your efforts are futile,” said Lady Cupid. “So long as humans are desperate to feel love, they will buy into my hands like the clueless animals they are.”

Her knuckles collided with Finn’s jaw. Lightning shot up the side of his face. He tasted metal. Before he could react, Gabriella had grabbed Lady Cupid’s shirt and lifted her a foot in the air, hand ablaze. 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Gabriella said. “Love will _never_ die.”

**Three minutes twenty seconds.**

She hurled Lady Cupid through the office window while Finn rounded up the surrendering scientists—one sun-red glare was all it took. 

The comms crackled. Hyacinthus asked, “Where are you at?”

Finn popped his jaw back into place. “Office. Lady Cupid. Don’t worry about us.”

“Well hurry up, you have three minutes.”

Finn found Gabriella and Lady Cupid duking it out from opposite sides of an overturned desk. Gabriella’s starbolts left long burn marks as she narrowly missed again and again. Wood smoke filled the tiny room.

“Can we at least take it outside?” Finn coughed. “There’s more room. Plus this place is about to _freaking blow up_.”

**Two minutes forty-five seconds.**

Finn blasted the desk. Smoldering splinters showered onto the ground.

He turned to Gabriella. “Get the civilians out.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you here!” she exclaimed.

**Two minutes twenty-nine seconds.**

Finn read the determination in her eyes. “Look, I’m not gonna argue with you and I can’t make you do what I want, but you have to trust me.”

Conflict flashed across her face.

“Please.”

“Fine,” she said. “You better not die.”

**Two minutes six seconds.**

“Alright, Lady Cupid. It’s just you and me.”

A wicked smile stretched across her face, and from ash dusting her hands rose a new bow—stronger, sturdier. White feathered wings sprouted from her back, and her eyes morphed from a human green into a dark pink, almost blood-red color. 

“You think you can defeat a god’s power?” she snarled.

Heat flowed to the tips of Finn’s fingers. “I can sure as hell try.”

**One minute thirty-seven seconds.**

Her hand snagged the front of his shirt. The seconds blurred as they tore through wall after wall; through plaster and concrete alike. Finn coughed as a layer of drywall coated his throat. Pain shot through the back of his head.

He hadn’t even realized he blacked out until his vision crawled back. The bitter metallic taste covered his tongue. Something felt broken; he wasn’t sure what. 

The floor was rough under his palms. His ears rang. His body screamed for him to surrender. Noxious fumes suffocated him. This must’ve been what Hyacinthus was talking about.

How long did he have?

Oh yeah.

**One minute two seconds.**

Though the ground swayed beneath his feet. Finn forced himself to stand up and meet Lady Cupid’s eyes. Even with the chemical fog, those beady little things stood out like monsters in a horror story.

**Fifty-five seconds.**

He coughed and wiped his split lip. When he spoke, his voice was scratchy and raw. “You… you’re not gonna win.”

Footsteps clicked. A cold arrowhead was placed under his chin.

“What makes you say that?”

**Forty-seven.**

**Forty-six.**

**Forty-five.**

“‘Cause as soon as we hit zero, this place goes down and you’re going down with it.” Finn coughed and summoned what heat he could—as warm as an oven. 

“That is where you are wrong.” She pushed the arrow closer, almost piercing his skin. “ _You_ are some lowly child who gained your abilities by a fluke. _I_ am expertly crafted from millennia of Olympus’s finest tutelage.”

**Thirty.**

“I am eternal,” she said. “I can heal and rebuild. Can you say the same?”

Lady Cupid kicked his shin. He fell to his knees.

“Once that timer hits zero, you will be nothing but dust.”

**Twenty.**

“Tell me, where is that little team of yours now? Seems cowardly to leave you behind. Or perhaps they do not want you. What an insignificant little thing you are. The universe will not miss you.”

**Fifteen.**

If Finn had the vocal capacity, he’d lay out his thoughts like a preacher at a cathedral. But he didn’t need to.

He knew Iris was in the little moments of helping; the silent supporter whose work may never be known, but built their entire foundation.

He knew Hyacinthus was in the sarcastic quips, swift actions, and snap judgments; the black sheep whose methods didn’t match morals, yet always did the right thing in the end.

And Gabriella. She’s the voice of reason amidst a riot. The questioning tongue in a room full of agreement. She was order, work, and perseverance. She was Finn’s worst enemy and best friend. Gabriella was leadership, loyalty, _love_. Love more than Lady Cupid could ever fathom.

**Ten.**

It’s a well-known fact the same elements that make up human cells formed the cosmos. Finn’s mother used to tell him that—she used to say he was a galaxy waiting to happen. That he’d grow into the universe he was given. But before that, he had to start as a little ball of light.

A starling. 

Carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen. 

He felt them all collect in the middle. _Burning, burning._ It coursed through his veins like celestial bodies hurtling through space. His cape rippled as his feet left the ground.

**Five.**

“There’s one thing you don’t know, lady.”

**Four.**

He grabbed and twisted her shirt. 

**Three.**

Brighter and hotter, the light grew.

**Two.**

“I _am_ the universe.”

White light engulfed them. 

All the densely packed energy unleashed—a thousand trillion degrees, swallowing everything it touched. 

**One.**

And as quickly as it came, it went.

~☆~☆~

Finn was a hundred and ten percent sure he was dead, which made waking up amongst charred rubble all the more of a surprise. Smoke hung in the early morning air. Red and blue lights flashed… somewhere. He couldn’t get a gauge of distance. His body ached to the point of numbness as he pulled himself to his knees, spitting out the blood and dust. The end of his cape was singed—even magic had its limits.

Where were the others?

He didn’t have to look far for his answer. As soon as he stumbled, a pair of arms wrapped around him. Another arm draped over his shoulder while a smaller hand rested on his back.

“Easy there,” Iris said. 

Gabriella exclaimed, “I didn’t know we could even _do_ that! What happened?!”

Finn shifted his weight to one leg. “You tell me. Where’s… that lady, Whatsherface?” 

“Police are taking care of Lady Cupid,” Gabriella said. “Look, Finn, I should’ve trusted your instinct from the start. None of this would have happened if we’d taken care of Lady Cupid the first time like you said. I’m sorry.”

Finn placed a hand on her arm. “Apology accepted.”

“From now on, everyone’s word holds equal weight,” she said. “That’s a promise.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Hang on,” Hyacinthus said. “Your name’s Finn?”

“So much for a secret ID.” Finn bit back a groan as Gabriella and Iris helped him sit. He gestured to Gabriella. “Might as well drag her down with me. She’s Gabriella.” 

“Don’t worry, it was gonna come out eventually,” Iris said. “You gotta know your team in this line of work. It makes you stronger.” As they drew a roll of bandages from their belt, they added, “I’m Micah, by the way.”

“You guys have fun with that,” Hyacinthus said. “I’m perfectly fine with you people not knowing a thing about me.”

“Suit yourself.” Finn chuckled.

“…It’s Alejandro.”

Finn winced as Iris— _Micah_ —dabbed the alcohol wipe, apologizing under their breath for each sting as though they were another villain. They stopped after a few reassurances and simply smiled.

“So what’s next?” Finn asked. 

“Court hearing for Lady Love Drug,” Gabriella said, “and a well-deserved hiatus for us. We can figure out how to live like normal people.”

“Good, I need a break from the butt-kicking.”

Alejandro said, “If you need a vacation, I can get you credits at Caesar’s Palace.”

“Don’t you have to be twenty-one to do that in America?” Gabriella asked.

He scoffed. “Goody-two-shoes.”

“Whatever we do,” Micah said, “we’re in it together.”

They put their hand in the middle. Gabriella did the same. Alejandro hesitated but followed suit. A balloon of hope rose through Finn’s body. 

Lady Cupid was wrong. Nothing is useless; nobody is unwanted. Mistakes were inevitable, and so was learning from them. 

Smiling, he placed his hand on top.

Besides, if he had friends this good, he must be doing something right.


End file.
